His defeat unnerved Vhalla more than anything else in that singular moment.
“Please excuse me, my lords.” She couldn’t take any more; she couldn’t handle one more suffocating moment of whatever was transpiring. Vhalla retreated before anyone could say otherwise.
She took in a deep breath of air outside of the doors, gagging and sputtering on the smoke. She brought a hand to her mouth with a grimace. However, no matter how awful it was outside, nothing compared to the suffocation of that room.
Vhalla started off aimlessly, no goal of where she should be other than not in the camp palace. The tents were smashed in lines from where the Northerners had launched their attacks. She could see some—most—were trampled beyond repair. Vhalla wondered how many people would be sharing an uncomfortable sleeping arrangement tonight. She wondered if she would be one of them, given the situation with the Emperor.
Her feet carried her instinctually to the one other place she’d been made comfortable after coming to the North. Astoundingly, the Golden Guard’s huts were still in order. She was halfway to them when the sharp sound of a door slamming echoed across camp.
Vhalla turned in the direction of the sound. The Emperor had a piece of paper clenched in his fist, and Aldrik trudged along behind him, Baldair lagging behind. She gulped nervously.
Jax and Erion were around the center campfire. Craig, Raylynn, and Daniel were nowhere to be seen. The men waved her over the second they noticed Vhalla’s presence.
“Good morning!” Jax greeted.
“Good afternoon,” Vhalla corrected, sitting on one of the stumps around the fire. She tugged on the chain around her neck, popping open the watch. “It’s almost three.”
“I’ve been admiring your timepiece,” Erion said quickly. Jax shot him a sideways look. “Not the first time I’ve noticed it about your neck. May I see?”
Vhalla paused, her fingers closing around the watch. She had no reason to say no. A refusal would merit an explanation she wasn’t ready to give. Resigned, Vhalla unclasped it around her neck and passed it over.
Erion ran his fingers over the front thoughtfully. The two Westerners exchanged a look. Jax gave Erion a small nod. “I thought Prince Aldrik had stopped crafting watches.”
Vhalla felt more exposed than she had while she was under the Emperor’s scrutiny. She snatched it back with a defensive glare, quickly putting it around her neck.
“I’m surprised he let you be so bold with it,” Jax whispered, half under his breath.
“It’s unlike our prince,” Erion hummed in agreement. “Quite the statement he’s making with you.”
Vhalla’s fingers rested over the watch through her shirt where it now rested against her chest. “How did you know?”
“I’ve known our prince since he was small,” Erion explained. Vhalla remembered Daniel telling her that Erion had been the original member of the Golden Guard. “He went through a phase as a child where it was all he did. But I see he continued to progress in secret.”
“Why? Why did he continue only in secret?” Vhalla asked.
“Who knows?” Erion shrugged.
She turned to Jax. He had a different expression. Vhalla gave him a probing stare.
“Likely so he could give them to ladies,” the lanky Westerner laughed away her silent inquiry. “Clearly, the prince gets more action than we thought!”
The two men were jesting back and forth, but Vhalla remained focused on Jax. There was madness to him, she’d always known that. But something ran deeper. There was more to this man than met the eye. He knew things.
“You lot are making it hard to sleep,” Daniel grumbled from his doorframe. He blinked in surprise the moment he noticed Vhalla’s presence among the group. “What’re you doing here?”
“Enjoying not fighting?” Vhalla made up a weak excuse. But it seemed to be accepted.
Daniel chuckled and assumed the place next to her.
“Speaking of fighting, I saw your bird,” Jax said eagerly.
“My bird?” Vhalla tilted her head.
“During the battle,” he clarified, which didn’t really make it any clearer in actuality. Jax considered her stumped face and continued, “The giant flame.”
Clarity washed across her, and Vhalla realized he meant when she had brought Aldrik’s flames into the sky. Hands together, fingers open, she could see how it may look like a bird. “I didn’t really plan for it to be a bird.”
“It was brilliant that it was!” Jax grinned. “I knew it must be you; Firebearers can’t sculpt flames like that.”
“I had good flames to work with.” Vhalla glanced away in the direction of the fortress. Surely the last letter had been delivered already.
As if on cue, Vhalla watched as the three royals—in no better spirits—trudged back inside. Vhalla wondered if she should be at Aldrik’s side facing whatever it was he was forced to endure. Her hand rested over her watch once more. No, after the brief encounter in the morning, she doubted that would be helpful.